


Forget to Remember

by monochromedelirious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Animagus, BAMF Minerva McGonagall, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Depressed Sirius Black, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, M/M, Marauders, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), POV Remus Lupin, References to Depression, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monochromedelirious/pseuds/monochromedelirious
Summary: Sirius Black is sick of being cooped up in his childhood home, but a visit from an old professor, and a chance to reminisce, remind him of the good in the world.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 112





	Forget to Remember

Remus watched Sirius from across the long table, lips pursed in thought. He’d had more time than he’d cared to for reflection lately, and the sunken and unfocused gaze of the man across the table was making it difficult to concentrate on anything else that was going on. It wasn’t until Sirius spoke that Remus was pulled back to the moment, the voice reaching out and jostling his core like one of those dreams in which you’re falling and jolt awake only when you hit the ground. 

“I’m going,” said the hoarse voice, eyes fixed on Albus Dumbledore. The rest of the table turned to look at him in silence, and Molly was the first to speak, “Sirius, you know that’s not a possibility--” 

“I’m his legal guardian, Molly. I’m going to be on the mission to bring him here.” 

“Theoretically, Black, you’re not a legal anything,” Remus winced at the cruelty in Severus’s voice, still tinged with the bitterness that had been festering there for two decades. 

“Severus, please, that’s not helping--” Remus said softly.

“Moony, shut up.” Remus closed his eyes, impatience mixing with compassion in swirls that he had always felt but could never quite reconcile. “I can fight my own bloody battles, or are you also going to tell me that I need to sit here and wait while you all rescue _my_ godson?” 

Remus levelled a look at Sirius, _you know the answer to that question._

“Bloody hell,” Sirius stood from the table, pushing in his chair with a level of aggression that was unsurprising but still jarring. He left the room, likely to go and pour himself two fingers of whiskey, and it was all Remus could do to not follow him and try in desperate vain to talk him down. Sirius knew that he couldn’t go, he knew that it was for his own safety, and for Harry’s, but Sirius was a man driven by instinct, and his instinct to protect his best friend’s son was one of the strongest Remus had ever known him to have. 

He sighed and returned to his notes, offering thoughts when he had them, but mostly staying quiet for the rest of the meeting, his mind having left the table when Sirius had. 

***

“When you’re done moping,” Remus’s tone was cool, “Minerva would like a word.” He stood in the doorway of what had once been Orion’s study, and was now one of the places that Sirius ran off to when the man was feeling particularly self-destructive. 

He sat now, whiskey bottle in hand, in the ancient cherry wood chair, turned towards the window, his long hair and unfocused grey eyes either a stark contrast or elegant compliment to the regality of the oft ignored space, Remus couldn’t decide which. 

“Sod off,” Sirius shot back, easily sinking into the role of the petulant teenager he once was. Remus often wondered if the years in prison had prevented Sirius Black from moving past the mindset of the twenty-one year old boy who’d just lost his adopted brother and sister. It was moments like this that confirmed those suspicions. 

“They’ve selected the guard,” Remus offered, “a good group too, I think. Nymphadora’s going.” 

“Andromeda will be thrilled,” Sirius replied ruefully, sarcasm dripping at what Remus suspected was the thought of what his cousin would say if she knew her daughter had volunteered for a mission so tenuous the Order wouldn’t let Sirius go. 

“Moody too, Kingsley, Emmeline, a few others. He’ll be safe. And then he’ll be here, Pads.” 

That did the trick. Sirius let out a long breath and turned towards Remus. “I know, Moony,” his lips curled into a half smile. “The prodigal fawn,” He took a sip of the whiskey and chuckled, “so what does McGonagall want?” 

Remus was brought back to school in that moment, to a fifth year Sirius Black who had an absurd crush on their Transfiguration professor, and swore that they were meant to be together. So much for that.

“You should ask her yourself.” 

Sirius sighed again and then rose, capping the bottle and leaving it on his father’s desk. “Sorry I’m a miserable twat, mate,” he moved towards the doorway, eyes seeking Remus’s. 

“You can make it up to me later,” Remus smirked, reaching out to pull Sirius in by his sleeve. Their lips met and the kiss was soft, tender, as they were wont to be these past few months. It had been just over two years since Sirius had escaped Azkaban, and about six months since the Order had settled into its new headquarters, and now that the dust had settled on that Sirius had been without purpose most days, and when Sirius was without purpose was when he spiraled. More nights than not, he woke in the night writhing or screaming, years of childhood and young adult trauma compounded by more than a decade under the watch of the dementors; so much of what he’d worked so hard to bury now forced to the surface, like a corpse in a shallow grave washed clean by fresh rain. 

On the nights where Sirius let himself be touched Remus could hold him until they were taking slow, even breaths together, eventually drifting back into something like sleep. On the nights that were worse he would make tea and sit up talking nonsense to Sirius until he was grounded enough to step back from the awful memories that haunted his sleep. It was a ritual from before Azkaban, from when they were first living together and Sirius had an episode. Remus would tell stories of their adventures at Hogwarts or make up jokes or just keep talking until Sirius came back to him from the faraway place his nightmares took him to. 

“I’ll do my best,” Sirius smiled, placing a gentle kiss on Remus’s neck before turning from the room. 

Minerva was scanning a bookshelf in the sitting room when they found her, and Remus watched as Sirius’s body language shifted from the solemn, broody man he had been just moments earlier to the coy teenager, smirking at the trouble he was about to get into. 

“‘Lo Professor,” Sirius said, and Mcgonagall turned around. 

“Minerva, please, Sirius,” She smiled at him, “I am no longer your Professor.”

“You have what to be grateful for, then,” he smirked and Remus couldn’t help but mirror the expression, suddenly seeing the playful boy escaping from inside of the trapped man. 

“Clearly,” Minerva replied, a small smile playing at her lips too. 

“Was there something you needed?” Sirius asked, “you’re welcome to any of the books. I couldn’t read them all if I tried. And I’ve no intention of doing so.” 

“No, thank you, Mr. Black, I’ve actually got something of a more personal inquiry.” 

“Oh?” 

“I’ve been curious,” She began, “since finding out about your skill, and would like to discuss how it came to be that three of you managed the process of becoming Animagi without any authority at Hogwarts being aware of said actions.”

Sirius chuckled softly, a genuine sound that felt like a drink of cool water to Remus. “We managed quite a bit without any of you knowing,” Sirius retorted, eyeing Remus, who shrugged at his former teacher and colleague. 

“I don’t doubt that, Mister Black,” her tone slipped back into the well-practiced voice of a weary educator despite the small smile she wore. “But I’ve particular interest, as you well know, in this specific misdoing.” 

Sirius shook his head slightly, some long forgotten memory coming up from the depths of his mind. “Are you most interested in the magic?” he asked, cocking his head, “or in how we got away with it.” 

“My academic and personal interest in the matter are at odds, so the whole story would be lovely if you’ll indulge me.” 

“Happy to.” He looked at Remus, “This is going to take a while, think you might make Minerva a cuppa?” 

“I wouldn’t mind a splash of something stronger either,” Minerva suggested. 

“Better make that three, then.” 

***

“So it was Peter who brought up the idea,” Sirius spoke only after they were all seated with drinks in their hands. “After one of your lessons, actually.” 

“I teach that as part of the third year curriculum, you went about this at—“

“Thirteen years old,” Remus finished for her. “Sirius was the first to transform, starting in fourth year.” Sirius smiled at him from the other side of the sofa. 

“Let it never be said that your intellect was not impressive, Mister Black,” Minerva scoffed. 

“Sirius, please,” he offered, “I could do without the reminder of who and where I am.” He was still smiling softly, despite the sentiment. 

“Sirius, then.” 

“So a lot of this was theoretical, of course,” Sirius went on, “but it seemed logical, considering Transfiguration theory, that a human to animal Transfiguration would render the biology enough to decrease the chance of transmission should the wolf bite one of the animals.”

“I see.” 

“We later discovered,” Sirius looked at Remus, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “that rendering alters the makeup of the human form as well,” he gestures towards her, “Remus couldn’t change you, for example, not in his human form anyway. As the wolf, the lupine factor is likely more potent, yeah Moons?”

“We’ve never saw need to test a wolf to human bite. Wolf to animal has no effect,” Remus winced slightly at his next comment, “and human to human doesn’t either.” 

Remus felt himself redden slightly, and he took a quick sip of his drink, grateful for the opportunity to duck his face for a moment. 

“Well, I’ll refrain from asking about those— experimentations, but it’s valuable information to know. I’m not sure anything like that has ever been studied before.” 

“We’ve done quite a bit of studying,” Sirius chuckled, throwing Remus a couldn’t help myself look. 

“You joke, Sirius,” she spoke softly, her tone kind, “but this information could be of immeasurable worth.” 

“If only it was conducted by someone who wasn’t a convicted felon,” his reply was dry, caustic even.

“That doesn’t change its value.” 

“I s’pose.” 

“Do continue.” 

“Andromeda got us the mandrake leaves, although I’m not sure she ever knew what they were for,” Sirius shrugged, “I was keeping a secret for her and so she didn’t ask too many questions when I begged her for the favor in return.” 

“And how did you know what to do with them?” 

“That’s where I came in,” Remus perked up, “My three idiot friends had decided they were going to do this illegal and dangerous thing for me, and if there’s anything I’ve learned in life it’s that you can’t talk Sirius Black out of anything once his mind’s set. So I did all of the research.” 

Minerva nodded at Remus before turning back to Sirius. “And the magic, how did you manage magic that advanced?” 

Remus watched as Sirius disappeared for a moment, suddenly back in a room with James, he was sure. “Prongs--” Sirius caught himself, “James and I had a way of accomplishing things just because we thought we could,” he shrugged, “I’m not sure how to explain it. Some combination of old magical blood and sheer willpower was always my guess.” 

“And Mr. Pettigrew?” Her voice grew cold. 

Remus looked at Sirius, measuring the minutiae of each and every movement of his features. It wasn’t the first time he had found himself impressed by the way Sirius seemed to think of Peter their school-aged friend as a different person than Peter the traitor who just as good as killed his best friends. But fuck if Lily wasn’t right about Sirius’s uncanny ability to compartmentalize. “He had us.” Sirius shrugged, “We were all for one,” he scoffed, “it wasn’t an option for him to not get there.” 

He took a sip of his drink, “that’s what I’ve always liked about Transfiguration,” he said, “the theory and the practice are the same. You’re not changing things, just rearranging them. All of the pieces are already there, you just need to picture them behaving differently.” 

“A fundamentally simple explanation of a complicated skill,” she smiled, “and yes, Sirius, that was a compliment.” She looked between him and Remus, “And if I might be so forward as to ask to see your transformation—“ 

“Absolutely.” 

Sirius stood with a wink at Remus, and then, as Remus had seen him do innumerable times, transformed into the large black mutt. Minerva took a sip of her drink, then placed it down and rose, taking her time as she circled around the dog, who watched her with Sirius’s deep grey eyes. She pursed her lips and nodded, then gave Padfoot a playful pat on the head before taking her seat again. “As I said, impressive.” She looked at Remus, “And the other two forms?” 

“Peter was a rat,” Remus replied as Sirius returned to human form, “And James a stag.”

“Fitting,” she commented, “In all regards.” She paused, “And now you’ll have to indulge me further, because I imagine that this was not without its struggles for you boys, and Godric knows I could use a good laugh.”

And so Sirius regaled them with stories of James’s urge to rub his head on all of the bedposts in the Gryffindor House, and of the months it took for him to learn to handle his heightened sense of smell, and of Peter’s trip to the hospital wing after he broke his arm running to get outside for the electrical storm. 

And by the end of the evening they were all comfortably tipsy, the warmth of the whiskey making the room swim just a bit as they talked and laughed. 

Remus found himself feeling lighter than he had in some time, as though Sirius’s laughter was quenching some long neglected thirst that couldn’t be sated by intimacy or sex. He had always appreciated the moments like this, even before Azkaban, where they could sit and pretend that the world wasn’t falling apart around them. They could be themselves for a time, playful and light. 

They talked about Harry, and the things that made him both his mother’s and father’s child and for a moment James was brought to life again, Minerva’s memories of him adding a dimension that neither Remus nor Sirius had ever known. 

But together they could remember. And in the process they could forget. And there was something beautiful about that. 

Minerva bid them goodnight long after the moon had risen, and Remus turned to watch Sirius as he sprawled out on the sofa. If he closed his eyes they could have been back in the Common Room, drunk after a Quidditch game, melted piles of boy on all of the furniture. But closing his eyes would have meant missing this; Sirius’s hair, bluish in the moonlight, an out of practice smile playing at his mouth. He’d unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, and Remus watched as his tattooed chest rose and fell in a slow, easy pattern. 

“Is that all it took?” He asked softly, so as not to interrupt the mood of the moment, “A few hours of our old teacher telling you you’re impressive, and you’re back in a good mood?”

“I’m nothing if not predictable.”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Remus smiled. 

“Just nice to have a change of pace. Drinking alone loses its fun after so long.” Sirius lifted his head to look at Remus. “I hate being trapped here, Moony.” 

“I know, Pads, I’m sorry.” 

“But tonight was good. Made me remember that there’s something worth fighting for.” 

“I’m glad.”


End file.
